


Bad days - Andrew

by thisisnotourlasthunt



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beware, Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kisses, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Andrew Minyard, Past Rape/Non-con, Scars, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, edited it later, read at your own risk alright, wrote this on a bad day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26492314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisnotourlasthunt/pseuds/thisisnotourlasthunt
Summary: 'Andrew looked at the uncovered scars he had made in his arms long ago, thanks to his eidetic memory, he could remember how he had felt when he made the first cut.'...In his first year in Pro exy, Andrew has a really bad day and no one is there to stop him, no one there to help him.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	Bad days - Andrew

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings, self harm, past rape, Drake, blood, scars.
> 
> Some of the things I wrote in this fanfic is what I sometimes feel so beware. 
> 
> It does not start nice, but it has a happy ending :)

Andrew looked at the uncovered scars he had made in his arms long ago, thanks to his eidetic memory, he could remember how he had felt when he made the first cut.

  
_‘Stop crying!’ he screamed at himself, as tears kept falling from his eyes. ‘Crying is for weaks. You want Cass, right? Then fight for her and stop fucking crying!’_

_He tugged at his hair as hard as he could and by now he had a headache, but the emotions and thoughts wouldn’t go away, so he didn’t stop tugging, he had to be strong and endure all this pain if he wanted to stay with the first woman that wanted him to be her son, the first woman that had told him he was part of the family, the first woman to give him a home. Oh and how much he wanted it, desired to be her son, but there was a problem, and his name is Drake._

_Drake had been a great brother at first, would always ask Andrew if he was alright, would bring stuff for him, let him play soccer with him. But on one particular occasion, Drake had touched Andrew’s inner thigh, and when Andrew retreated, Drake just smiled. The next day, he entered his room and raped him for the first time._

_“You won’t tell my mom, right? She won’t believe you if you do and she would accuse you of a liar and you’d be sent to another family. We don’t want that, right Andy?” Drake prompted as he licked Andrew’s stomach and pressed his cock harder in Andrew, hands pinning him down._

_Andrew bottled everything day after day of Drake’s abuse, not wanting to lose Cass, not wanting to leave his only opportunity of having a family. When Cass asked him if he was alright one day, and Drake looked at him with an expecting look and repeated the question, Andrew lied and told her that yes, everything was alright, but that day, everything he had bottled, threatened to spill._

_Andrew found himself in the bathroom later that day, knowing it would be the only place no one would disturb him and against his own will, he cried. Anger and disappointment boiled inside him, but he couldn’t show it, couldn’t let Cassi know what her son did to him. He wanted to punch something, break it to let everything out, but he found nothing, until he found his razor._

_Without thinking, Andrew grabbed the blade and ran it through his skin. It was meant to punish himself, oh but the feeling of relief as the blade tore his skin open was anything but a punishment. It was actually really liberating as he saw his blood spilling at the same time as his emotions did, finally letting them out, and the pain, oh the pain was something that kept him grounded, kept him focused on it and kept him away from the memories of his abuse. This pain was the only thing he was in control of, not like the rest of his body, he had inflicted this pain on himself and that was all he needed to keep doing it._

_The first times he did it, he had felt self conscious about it, but after many many times, his body craved the feeling of liberation, of being free of his emotions, even if it was only for some minutes._

Andrew now stood in the bathroom, blade in hand, deciding whether to feel the liberating pain again, or fight against the urge. He knew that doing this was wrong, many years in therapy with Bee had taught him that, but at this moment, it didn’t matter, his mind was foggy and he craved it to be over, and this was the only way he knew how to solve it.

It had been years since the last time he was this close to doing it, but he had Neil at his side to keep him away from the blades and away from his thoughts and, even if it was a little against Andrew’s own will, Neil would call Bee to let her know what was happening. 

But now, now he was alone, too far from Neil, too late for anyone that could help. He knew he could call anyone, and if he explained, they would help him, but at the moment he didn’t want others to carry him, the fight was between him and his memories with the blade at its side. Even if Andrew was strong, the memories were far much stronger than him, he was weak against them, weak, weak, weak. Far too weak.

Warm scarlett liquid ran slowly through his arms and into the sink and he felt… free. He closed his eyes, the pain hadn’t come yet, but he was prepared for it, and when it came, it was something he accepted quickly and thanked it for keeping him away from the memories, thank it for keeping him in the physical world. 

Slowly, he went for the first aid kit and sat on the bathroom sink, like he had many times before, and inspected his cut, his new scar. The cut was not deep, which meant he wouldn’t need stitches, but it was long and it would definitely scar. He grabbed the antiseptic and the alcohol and cleaned the wound before placing bandages on them and then his armbands. 

He went to his bed, and for the first time in days, he went to sleep and no intrusive memories came to mind.

  
For weeks he had to hide the wound from his teammates, it helped that they were afraid of him but the bandages made his armband bulkier and it would be easy to know what had happened. When the team went to shower, he would press his arm as close to his body as he could. Since he went to Bee’s once a month, and he still hadn’t found another terapyist in his area, there was no one to ask him about it. 

Until a few weeks later, once the wound was healed and replaced with a scar, Neil had a free week and came to him. 

They were kissing hotly in Andrew’s bed, lips moving in sync against each other, tongues exploring each others’ mouths. Andrew tugged at Neil’s shirt, silently requesting him to take it off, and Neil complied. Minutes later, he felt too hot and took his own off, but it wasn’t enough, so he lifted his arms at Neil for him to take his armbands off, completely forgetting about the new scar.

Neil didn’t seem to notice until he slid his hands across Andrew’s arms and felt this new bump. At first he thought it was just his imagination so he ran his hands again, but the bump was still there. Neil stopped kissing Andrew and looked over at Andrew’s arm and saw a large red scar, he looked up at Andrew and back at his arm. 

Andrew felt something tight in his chest, he tried distracting Neil with a kiss on the neck whilst slowly moving his arm away, but the red headed stopped him and looked up at him with a pained look.

“Drew…” Neil trailed off, Andrew looked away and pulled his arm to his chest.

“Don't,” Andrew said as he closed his eyes. He didn’t want to talk about how he was too weak to fight against the urge, too weak to stop himself, too weak, too weak, too weak.

“Look at me,” Neil said but when Andrew didn’t, as gently as possible, he grabbed Andrew’s chin and pulled his head for Andrew to look at him. “Drew, look at me.”

Andrew gave in and opened his eyes to meet the gaze of the blue eyed infront of him, Andrew noticed that Neil’s eyes were shiny and the corner of his eye was starting to get wet making Andrew feel an uncomfortable tightness on his chest.

“Andrew, talk to me, what happened?” Neil said softly and ran his thumb against Andrew’s chin.

“It felt too real” was all he said, with a tiny voice, almost in a whisper, suddenly remembering how real it had felt, how he hadn’t been able to sleep, the memories too present and real. 

“Andrew” Neil breathed and pulled the blond closer, foreheads against each other. “Next time you feel like doing it, call me or call Bee, neither of us will care if it's the middle of the night. Promise me you will call next time.”

“I promise” Andrew replied and he meant it.

That night, Andrew let Neil be the big spoon and slept against Neil’s chest, taking him in.

  
Next time it happened, Andrew remembered his promise, he called Neil at three in the morning and the redhead, surprisingly, answered at the fourth ring. Neil didn’t ask what was happening and started talking about exy and how the freshmen were giving him headaches and how he was glad he wouldn’t have to deal with freshmen broken sinks and windows for another year. Andrew didn’t talk the entire time, and focused on hearing his partner speaking with dedication. They stayed on the phone until the sun rose and Neil had to leave for his first class, but by that time, Andrew didn’t feel the urge to harm himself.

“129%” He said to no one.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are kindly appreciated. If you want to talk to me or give me some writing prompts, you can DM me to my intagram @thisisnotourlasthunt_ see ya!
> 
> Also, if you like this, please check out my other fanfics!


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